


Plague...

by ItsAL03



Category: Original Work, SCP Foundation
Genre: Angst, Arson (referenced), Brotherly Affection, Constance is Magalie except in the SCP universe, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Hurt, Euthanasia, Halloween, Loss of Parent(s), Major Original Character(s), Mercy Killing, Mild Gore, Mildly Rushed, Murder-Suicide Attempt, Psychosis, SCP is not directly related, Swearing, light self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 02:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAL03/pseuds/ItsAL03
Summary: Magalie is an average 12 year old living in France in the 1340's. But as the world around her is ravaged by the Black Death, she winds up behind a plague mask, standing alongside a young man she thought she could trust. Until one day, everything changed...."Why can't I breathe?"





	Plague...

**Author's Note:**

> Do not repost my work anywhere whatsoever! (I don't see why you'd want to, but please do not steal this work in any way!)

** _Disclaimer: This book is a fantasy, meaning not everything is historically or scientifically accurate. _ **

** _Another Disclaimer: Apologies for it being so long. Please be patient, as I haven't quite figured out how to do chapters in AO3 yet_ **

** _Prologue_ **

Magalie 5/12/1348

“Mother is very sick… She has the black marks everyone is so afraid of. She sent me to get help.” I looked up at the tall person before me wearily. They were wearing the bird-looking mask that the plague doctors wear. They could save mother, couldn’t they? The person looked down at me, then spoke in a masculine voice, “Of course, young one. Where is you mother now?” I turned around, pointing in the general direction of my home, and looked back at the man. He nodded in a calm, gentle manner, and I squeaked, trying to sound as mature as possible, “What’s your name, sir?” He chuckled, then replied, “Paisley. And who may you be, little one?” I wrinkled my nose at being called ‘little one’, but I replied anyway, attempting to maintain a polite tone. “My name is Magalie, sir! And thank you for your help!” With this, I looked towards the road leading to my home, then back at the doctor. He nodded, and we began the walk back to my home. I tried to strangle my worries of how my mother may be faring, instead focusing on the steady tapping of my shoe soles on the dreary brick roads. But the worries kept returning. What if mother is more sick than before? What if she’s angry because I took so long? What if she fell asleep? I pushed my worries aside once again and focused on the _ tap tap tap _of my footsteps. 

Paisley 5/12/1348

I feel awful for this unfortunate little girl. She’s too young to know. When a parent sends a child to find a doctor such as myself, it’s usually because the desperate parent doesn’t want their beloved little ones to see them perish. What’s worse is this oblivious child is just walking along, not a care in the world. Hard to be so careless when there’s so much death and destruction around you. I can see the kid’s house now. And with every step I take towards it, I notice a sick feeling building in intensity. Dread. And even worse yet, once the little girl got close to the house, I didn’t even have time to warn her about the danger or contracting the plague, or of seeing her mother’s lifeless corpse. She flung the door open, cheerfully shouting, “Mother! I’m back!” But there was no reply. And that’s when I knew. This woman had succumbed to her illness. The girl, Magalie was her name, I believe, had gained a concerned facial expression. She hesitated, then walked to the back of the small cottage. Then I heard her scream out…

Magalie 5/12/1348

What do I do? What do I do? Is mother just asleep? Is she ignoring me? I shivered, and after my initial loud cry, I choked out in a shaky voice, “M-mother…? Please wake up…” I kneeled beside her, holding back tears. “Mommy?...” I reached to her side, and grabbed her hand. Her flesh was cold, and discoloured in a sickly grayish white. And once I realized, I felt my body shiver even harder than before, tears breaking free and streaming down my cheeks. Before I realized I was doing it, I screamed out again, ** _“PAISLEY!” _ **I desperately tried to heave my mother up, locking my arms under hers, pulling her towards me, hugging her cold, pale body. Within moments, Paisley rushed into the room, holding a strange-looking mask. He pulled me away from mother, forcefully putting the mask on my face. I thrashed wildly, trying to escape his grip. Shouldn’t he be helping mother like he promised he would? She’s the sick one, not me! Finally, he released me. But he grasped my hand tightly, and in a sense, I was still contained. The masked doctor sighed solemnly, then softly said, “I’m so sorry… I truly am. But once I’m contacted, it’s usually too late… I cannot help her now…” he trailed off, shaking his head in shame. Then it hit me. 

I was alone now. 

** _Chapter 1_ **

Paisley 6/1/1348

I’m not sure if this is a good idea or not, but it seemed like the best option at the time. This child is definitely bright, and a joy to be around, but she’s also quite emotional. I’m not sure why, since she wanted to be mentored in healing and medicine. Then again, maybe I’m being too uptight. Her mother _ did _pass away less than a month ago. I was under the impression that trauma would make her stronger. Maybe that doesn’t apply to everyone… Wait. Speaking of Magalie, where is she? I got up from a book I was reading, to search for my apprentice. I checked each room, to no avail. I looked up the stairwell, considering why she could possibly be up there. Was she trying to cure patients in quarantine again? I sighed, taking my time to slowly walk upstairs. And there she was, in the study. She has a patient with her. I sigh, then speak, “What do you think you’re doing, child?” The young apprentice flinches in shock, dropping a syringe and a bloodied scalpel on the floor. I stared at the two metal objects, confused and mildly agitated. “Why are you doing an operation without me?!” Magalie bowed her head in shame. “I just wanted to impress you, sir…” she murmured softly. The look in her eyes almost broke me when she glanced back up. She looked so… pitiful. And for a moment, the searing memory of the same young girl staring sadly into my eyes. She’d lost so much. I pushed the memory away. An apprentice needs teaching, right? And I need to teach her how dangerous solo operations really are, especially for someone as young and inexperienced as her. I approached her, kneeling beside the small figure. I placed my hand on her shoulder, receiving a miniscule whimper from the girl. I sighed, “Look at me.”

Magalie 6/1/1348

After scolding me, Paisley sent me out of the study. He didn’t seem to understand what I was trying to do. I just wanted to prove that I could do it! But I’ll admit it; I had no idea what I was doing, but I’ll also say that I did okay, since they said I was helping. Oh well, could’ve been worse, I guess. I found myself later, wondering, daydreaming. I adored Paisley, he was everything to me now. Safety, security, affection even. But I was jealous of him. When will he think I’m just as good as him? When will I be allowed to treat patients? When will he give me one of those doctor masks and set me free to help as much as I can? I silenced my humming that I didn’t even realize I was doing, and strained my sense of hearing to catch anything Paisley said. I could hear bits of what he said, but there were no other voices. He must’ve given the patient I had been operating sleeping medication. I could, though muffled, hear my mentor’s words from above me. “She really didn’t do too badly”, “Maybe I was a little too harsh”, I smiled. Even though I wasn’t supposed to hear him, his audible thoughts of praise gave me a warm feeling of accomplishment. Within a few, long, actually minutes, Paisley came back downstairs. I looked behind my shoulder, meeting his gaze once more. “Hi…” I started softly, acting as if I was still ashamed of my earlier actions. My mentor nodded, then replied in a cheerful voice, “I apologize, I was mistaken in punishing you… Your method… it’s a cure. Well done.” I watched him in shock, half expecting it to be a cruel joke. But no such result came. Within moments, I was overwhelmed with excitement. “Really? I did it? _ I did it!” _I jumped to my feet, launching myself at and hugging Paisley. This was it. I am the cure. 

Paisley 8/20/1348

I’m so proud of this kid. She’s gone and done what it took me years to accomplish. And I’ve never seen her so happy. It’s been almost three months, but she’s still proud of herself. I’ve even let her treat a few more, and she did well with them too. She won’t tell me what she did, she just giggles and says, ‘It’s my little secret!’ but I don’t mind. As long as she’s doing her job, and doing it with dignity. Recently, though, she’s been acting a little… off. Like something is bothering her. I suspect the plague has something to do with it, since she’s sluggish and I’ve heard her having coughing fits every now and then. Or maybe I’m overreacting. That’s what I hope it is. Magalie’s voice tore me from my thoughts. A ragged cough. 

** _Chapter 2_ **

Magalie 8/31/1348

Oh God, oh God, oh God… This can’t be happening. Everything was fine a few days ago! All it was was a little cough! But this morning, I woke up, and when I tried to stretch the stiffness from my muscles, I was met with excruciating pain. It was coming from my forearms. Now I’m hiding in the study, trying to dig the disgusting, contagious black sores from my skin. It isn’t working though. I’m getting blood and torn flesh everywhere. My already shaking hands because useless as the rest of my body started violently quivering, following Paisley calling my name. I hastily smeared the clotting blood on the flood, shakily fighting to my feet. I covered the black sores with my sleeves, whimpering. I tried to take a few steps, and upon regaining my balance, as well as the control of my muscles, I trudged downstairs, trying to ease the churning illness in my abdomen. Paisley awaited me at the bottom of the stairs, an expression of worry crossing his face. “Hi, Paisley…” I choked out, my voice trembling. He sighed. “Are you alright?” He knew I wasn’t. It was almost as if he could see the black scabs covering my flesh through the light gray fabric of my sweater sleeves, and could connect it to my worry, which wasn’t as well hidden as I wanted it to be. But, I didn’t want him to know, in case he didn’t already, so I didn’t say anything about the sores. “Of course!” I started nervously, “I just… accidentally got a patient’s blood on the floor of the study… “ I willed my quivering voice to calm itself. My mentor shook his head in shame, presumably over the mess I had made. “Then go clean it up.” He muttered in disapproval. I nodded, and raced back upstairs, free from Paisley’s prying eyes. 

Paisley 9/3/1348

This has been going on for a few days now. Magalie only comes down once or twice to say ‘good morning’ or to talk about the things she wants to do for the day, then she goes back upstairs. Honestly, I’m more than just worried, in fact, I’m suspicious. I don’t want to think that the plague has spread to my precious apprentice. I sighed, covering my face with my hands in frustration. I held back possible tears, and murmured to myself, “Here we go…” Then I called for her. “Magalie! Come down here, please!” There’s maybe two minutes of panicked footsteps before my apprentice came down the stairs, her demeanor more timid than usual. Her arms are covered again and the entire left side of her face is covered in… gauze? The small girl approached me, her anxiety visible to anyone, if they were paying attention. “Let’s get one thing straight. You’ve been acting very… suspicious… lately. Care to explain why?” when she didn’t reply, I grabbed her hand, and pulled her sleeves up. That’s when I saw it. She’s infected. “_ Damn it! _” I cursed under my breath, inspecting the scab-like boils. They looked as if they had been there for a while, and there were half-healed red scabs surrounding them. “Did… did you try to dig them out?” I glanced up. Magalie was nodding wordlessly. “Are they on your face too…?” my voice had decreased to little more than a whisper. The young girl moved the bandages aside, revealing a sickly growth of black, infected tissue. I was overcome with a sick feeling. “Magalie… I- I’m so sorry… w-we need to get you to a hospital…” She flinched. “But I don’t feel sick.” From the strength in her voice and the sturdiness of her body, I knew she wasn’t lying. But keeping her here was too dangerous. I gripped her small hand tightly in mine. “Magalie… no protests…” The teary look of terror in her eyes hurt so badly. “Okay…” She murmured. 

** _Chapter 3_ **

Magalie 9/11/1348

Why would he do this to me? I’m not sick! If I was, I would be dead by now! Paisley brought me here a little over a week ago. They took me in immediately, giving me a small room which enforced total solitude. At least I have my books to keep me company, and ward off my sour attitude towards Paisley. He promised he’d visit me, and I know he’s probably busy, but can’t he stop by and say ‘hello’? Just for a few minutes? Luckily, the day finally came. I was reading over one of my old medical journals, since I assumed I’d never survive to treat another patient. The sickness had set in. I remember a young woman came to get me. And when I walked out, there was Paisley. I tried to run to him, but I was held back. The pain of my arms being pulled stopped my struggling. I didn’t want to, but I still found myself screaming, “_ Paisley! _” I don’t know why I did. I guess I just really wanted to be out of this place. He calmly commanded, “Let her go.” to which I was released. I ran to my old friend, hugging him tightly. There were cries of panic around me, as if I was going to kill them all. I released him, confused and shocked. After the terror died down, Paisley sighed. “I have something for you.” He did? Paisley never gives me gifts. He keeled, producing a white doctor’s mask. My eyes widened. “Thought you deserved this…” He said softly, as he handed me the mask. It was sleek, and smooth to the touch, unlike his, which was composed of two neatly bonded leather sheets. I smiled widely, putting the mask over my face and clicking the buckle in the back, securing it to my face. It felt so right, but also so strange and foriegn. “Thank you!” I cried happily. This brought a smile to the older doctor’s face, and I could tell, even though he was still wearing his own mask. After a few moments, a feminine voice broke in. “I’m very sorry, sir, but miss Magalie should return to her room now…” Paisley nodded. “I understand, Madame.” He replied politely, then cast a final smile to me. “Goodbye, Magalie.” I waved farewell, and cooperated in going back to my room for the first time. That night, I was unable to sleep. The sickness is the worst at night. Coughing fits, cold chills, nausea, and to add to it, those damned plague boils itched to no end. It almost felt like the plague itself was a monster that slept through the day, and terrorized those it hunted through the night. I tossed and turned until the symptoms eased, allowing me to sleep for a few hours. 

** _Chapter 4_ **

Paisley 9/14/1348

I was going to visit Magalie again today, but she’s nowhere to be found. Well, they can’t find her in the hospital. And with a kid of that level of intelligence, God only knows where she is now. I remember walking into the hospital when I was stopped by a woman, presumably a nurse, who told me that Magalie had vanished. Now, here I am, trying to find her. And I haven’t had any luck yet. “_ Magalie! _” I shouted in between breaths. “Where are you?” No reply. I shouted again,the only sounds that followed were the sounds of the wind, the rustling of fallen autumn leaves, the occasional incoherent voice of someone further into the town, and my own panicked breathing. I listened closely, hoping for any indication of Magalie’s presence. It was all so quiet, so lonely. I hated it. Why did this have to happen to her? Soon, I found my thoughts pouring out as audible vocalizations. “She’s just a kid. Why her? She’s lost so much. Why can’t God just let her be happy?” When I considered it, life hadn’t been too kind to either of us. Maybe that’s why we got along so well? It seemed like it made sense, so I settled on that. I sighed, listening just as intently as before. I heard a sound, footsteps, around me somewhere. I glanced around in enough time to spot someone about Magalie’s size dart behind a building. “Hello?” I called out cautiously. The person peeked around the corner. Not Magalie, but one of the friends the young doctor had enjoyed spending time with. And she looked terrified. 

Magalie 9/14/1348

“Please, it’s me, Magalie!” my pleading wasn’t working. The people I had assumed were my best friends continued panicking, backing away. “What’s- What’s wrong?” I cried, trying to calm them down. “You’re infected, Magalie!” It hit like a ton of bricks. “I’m fine!” A shouted, tears in my eyes. There was a confused look from one of the two remaining friends, before another of my friends ran away. I turned to chase them, coming face to face with Paisley. “Shit!” I squeaked quickly, trying to back away. I stumbled, falling backwards, hitting my back against the hard stone ground. I laid there for a moment, stunned. “Magalie!” Paisley growled, and for the first time since I’d known him, I heard true anger in his voice. I flinched. “Wh-what?” I stuttered nervously. The older doctor glared down at me. “What do you think you were doing? Why did you break out of the hospital?!” He shouted, every word hitting like a stinging bullet. I held back tears, not wanting him to see my fear. I swallowed hard. “I… I’m not s-sick…” I whispered. He groaned in annoyance. “Yes, you are! I can see the black sores! I can hear your raspy breaths! You. Are. Sick.” He growled, his voice devoid of all emotions other than disgust. I trembled, his words like a whip being slashed against my heart. I narrowed my eyes, breathing heavily. “You’re a liar!” I screamed. “_ You lied to me! _ ” I struggled to my feet, groaning in pain as I moved. I took a few steps closer to Paisley, and tore my mask off, revealing my face. The sores had since dried and the itchiness had faded. My face was tinted slightly red, tears streaming down my face, agitating the sensitive blackened skin. Upon seeing my tears, my former mentor’s voice softened. “I never lied to you, Magalie… What are you talking about? What would make you ever think I did…?” He murmured almost too quietly to be heard. I growled, squeezing my eyes shut. “You told me I was sick! And being sick means you’re going to die! And I’m still alive!” He looked confused for a moment, searching for answers. “I mean, not everyone dies from the plague, Magalie…” Except his facial expression said otherwise, at least in my case. He knew there was something off about me. It wouldn’t heal, it wouldn’t vanish… It’s been like this for weeks. And yet, it still hasn’t killed me. I hated for anyone to go through this… It was so painful… So… isolated… I shivered, wiping the tears from my face. I reestablished eye contact with Paisley, who was watching me with pure unease and worry. “Are- Are you okay…?” He whispered, his voice shaking. I mustered a look of confusion, as I hadn’t said or done anything to make him anxious, had I? I looked at my hand, it was covered with blood. My blood. Then I felt the vicious, warm liquid streaming down and dripping from my face. I wiped it away with my sleeves, a feeling of dread growing in my chest. “What the fuck? Why is it doing this…?” I gasped between shallow breaths. Paisley reached towards my hand, and I pulled away. “ _ You just want to lock me up again, don’t you?!” _ I screamed again, disregarding my bleeding face. He pulled his hand back, and I saw tears in his eyes for the first time ever. “Magalie… why would I do that to you…?” He choked out, trying to breathe and tame his emotions down. I growled, the feeling of anger burning in my chest, and I hated the feeling. “ _ You did it to me once already! _” I cried, my screams dying down into agonized whimpers. I backed up into the wall behind me, my hands meeting my face again, covering the mixture of blood, flesh, and tears falling from my face in misshapen droplets, a small organic trail leading to me. The one everyone feared. The Plaguebearer. I slid down the wall, folding my body into a sitting position, sobbing. Just me and the sounds around me. Alone. All alone. 

Paisley 9/14/1348

I watched my former apprentice as she sat and sobbed, her face hidden in her blood covered hands. I swallowed hard, telling myself she wasn’t crazy, just scared, just stressed, just panicking… I built up the courage to open my mouth,willing my voice to remain as firm and assertive as Magalie had only known. “Magalie. Listen to me.” I started, my voice wavering, though only slightly. The young girl looked up, blood and tears smeared on her hands, face, and the sleeves of her sweater. I kneeled in front of her, reaching out my hand to touch her face. She didn’t move, seemingly paralysed. “Calm down…” I whispered. “Crying will only make things worse…” She shook her head rapidly. I pulled my hand away again. “It’s just not fair!” She cried, crossing her arms, looking in another direction. “Look at me.” I commanded, and she looked at me. I shuffled closer to her, wiping a large amount of blood from her face using the fabric of my coat. It came away, stained with the blood of my friend. “You’re going to be okay… just calm down…” I murmured, trying to sound empathetic and soothing. The girl shivered, trying to stop her tears. She sniffled, gently wiping the uninfected side of her face with her hand, while hyperventilating. I placed my hand on her shoulder. Her skin was… chilled… but only slightly. “Are you cold…?” I asked quietly, hoping that was all it was. She nodded wordlessly. “Y-yeah…” She stammered, her voice trembling gently. I took a risk to my own well-being, and put my arms under hers, pulling her up, and holding her tightly. She wrapped her arms around my neck, resting her head on my shoulder, sobs wracking her frail body. I hugged her tighter, shushing her softly. “It’s going to be okay, Magalie… it’s going to be okay…” She continued to cry, and after a few minutes, her sobs died down into silence. Calm, soothing silence. Just me and Magalie… Just like it used to be, all those weeks ago… “I promise… I won’t hurt you again…” I whispered, but Magalie didn’t respond. 

** _Chapter 5_ **

Magalie 9/30/1348

I hate my life. I hate this town. I hate this country… But most of all, I hate him. He lied to me. He lied. He swore he’d never hurt me again… Here I am… Alone… It’s so cold outside, or is it just me? I’m alone in the study, since Paisley brought me home. But it doesn’t feel like home anymore. I won’t take off my mask, no matter how many times he tells me I have to… I can’t help it. I love the feel of it. It brings back memories of the time when I was happy, before the disease inside of me took hold. Before Paisley abandoned me. Before I was outcasted. I tried to talk to my best friend yesterday. She screamed and tried to run away. She was wearing a strange looking mask that covered her nose and mouth. It was white, with yellow stings securing the white cover to her face. She looked scared, but her eyes were too dull to tell with positivity. When I asked her why she was running, all she told me was to stay away. That I was contagious. That I was dangerous. But no matter how upset I was, the tears wouldn’t come. They couldn’t. I didn’t want to cry over something so… common. I hugged my knees, tearing myself away from my self-destructive thoughts. I looked around me, the shelves full of books offering some kind of comfort. I stood up, approaching a specific bookshelf. I reached my shaky hands towards one specific book. I pulled the worn book from the shelf, brushing the dust off or the leather cover. I smiled, feeling a tingle of warmth in my chest as I opened it. Paisley’s logs of experimental treatments. Old wrinkled papers bearing scribbled notes, hypotheses, and scientific tests, all bound neatly into one small book made of a warm reddish leather. I thumbed through the pages, since I’d already read the book all the way through more times than I can remember. I’ve nearly memorized the book by heart. Except for one page, which I instinctively turned to. I’d never wanted to look before, since I had no need to do anything of this magnitude before. _ Pentobarbital _was written in neat cursive at the top of the page. I read over the page, my hands shaking wildly. 

_ Pentobarbital is a prescription medication that is typically used for treatment of epilepsy, delusion, hysteria, and insomnia. However, the drug may revolutionize treatment of the Pestilence. _

I heard a sound, which made me jolt in fear, and close the book around my fingers, keeping my hands on the page I had been reading, but anyone who may enter the room would be unable to know what I was planning. After a moment or so, the silence calmed my nerves, and I carefully opened the book once more. 

_ Side effects of the medicine may include paralysis of the diaphragm, resulting in death, if over a certain amount is administered. A standard syringe contains enough to cause immediate unconsciousness, followed by death by suffocation. This is only recommended if there is so physical chance of survival. _

“Pentobarbital…” I whispered, knowing what damage could be done using the drug. But I didn’t intend for anyone to get hurt. I don’t want anyone to go through this. I want them to die peacefully, knowing they wouldn’t have to suffer anymore…

Paisley 9/30/1348

This is bad… This is really bad… I didn’t mean for this to happen! I really didn’t! I know I may have told a minor white lie, by saying everything would go back to the way they were… But… She doesn’t understand that as long as she’s in her current condition, nothing will be the same. I understand she isn’t affected by her infection too badly, and she feels fine, at her best really. But I can’t just turn her free and expect everything to be okay… We’re in a time of crisis… Of fear. Yesterday the home of a widow and her three children burned to the ground, killing them all. It was suspected that the fire was intentional, but nobody was caught for the crime. When I told Magalie about it, she didn’t seem too bothered about it. All she could say was ‘Nothing we can do about it.’ I was taken aback by her comment. She’d never been so… numb. I dismissed it as she was having a bad day, except that bad day has lasted for almost a week, and I’m worried about her. So here I am, standing at the foot of the stairs, worried of what I might find when I go upstairs. One step, then another, then another. I focused on the sound of my shaky breathing. Up, up, up… and I’m at the top, looking down the hallway, hoping for some sort of sign that she’s even alive anymore. I approached the door of the study hesitantly. Well, here goes nothing… I knocked on the door, receiving a small _ Tap, tap, tap _when my knuckles made contact with the wood. “What do you want?” My former friend growled from inside. I swallowed nervously. “Magalie… Open the door… please…” There was a grumble of annoyance, and she opened the door. When I saw her, I almost flinched in horror. She looked… awful… Her eyes had gone dull, like a dead animal’s, her skin had paled, and she glared up at me with a scowl I hoped I would never have to face from her. “Well, what do you want? I don’t have all day?” I sighed. “Magalie… I’m sorry…” She stared at me, a dull, lifeless look in her eyes. She looked shocked, but she also looked enraged. “Sorry won’t fix what’s happened.” She said softly, except I could hear the rage dripping from her voice. “Sorry will never fix any of this. And I have to live with this, so I don’t want empty promises.” I just stood there, speechless. What was I supposed to say? There’s nothing I could say to make it better. I just… watched her, hoping she could find a way to forgive me. “Are you finished, because if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to reading.” and with that, she slammed the door in my face, and from inside the room, I heard Magalie start sobbing. The sorrowful sound felt like someone had taken a hammer and nail to my chest. I covered my ears, fighting back my own tears. I didn’t mean for this to happen… I didn’t want this to happen…

** _Chapter 6_ **

Magalie 10/5/1358

Things have gotten worse… Much worse… I’m so scared… I don’t want Paisley near me. He’ll know something is wrong. I can’t feel my fingertips. I’m always so… so cold, even if the room around me is warm enough to melt the candles sitting around the room. I shivered, hugging myself and trying to conserve body heat that simply wasn’t there. I squeezed my eyes shut, resisting the urge to cry. I’ve cried enough. There’s nothing left to cry about. There’s no pain, no sickness… only cold. I didn’t want to, but I needed to get Paisley. I struggled to my feet, trembling. I pushed open the door, and took a few steps through the large house, the floor creaking from my unsteady footsteps. I pulled my arms into my sweater, trying to stay warm somehow. I walked downstairs for this first time in what seemed like forever. But when I got down, I noticed Paisley was frantically grabbing up his doctor’s equipment, and right before he ran out the door, I meekly called, “Paisley…?” He turned around, making eye contact with me, a shocked expression crossing his face. “Magalie…?” He whispered, making sure it was actually me standing there. I nodded silently, not daring to speak again. He didn’t give warning, just rushed across the room to me, and wrapped his arms tightly around me. I flinched, trying to struggle free. But it was too late. He knew. He let go of me, taking a step away, a look of worry and fear glazed over his olive eyes. “Y-you’re… that’s not possible… Y-you couldn’t possibly survive…” I looked away, a sickening anxiety growing inside me. “You’re colder than a dead body, Magalie…” He murmured, his voice was reduced to a fearful whisper. “Paisley, I’m fine…” I growled, trying to reason with him. He shook his head. “No. No you’re not… I’m worried, Magalie…” I narrowed my eyes in annoyance. “Don’t worry about it, Paisley,” I changed the subject, not wanting to talk about my… condition any more. “Where are you going?” He opened the door, and an unusually warm gust came through the door, considering it’s October. “I’m a doctor. Why else would I be going out?” He muttered softly. I couldn’t help but smile in excitement. “Can I go with you? I want to help!” The cheerfulness in my voice was unnatural-sounding, even to me. He considered, then hesitantly replied “Sure.” As if he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not. We walked out of the house we’d been living in, although on separate floors, and into the streets. The small town we lived in seemed much more… desolate than I had remembered. There was nobody out, and almost everyone had their homes closed off from the world, with doors locked tightly, and window shutters latched into place. Paisley and I walked together, like it had been before I contracted the plague, just waiting for anyone to show up. I wracked my brain, trying to remember every precise detail of the life-saving surgery I had performed on at least a dozen patients. But the memory wouldn’t return. I groaned in disappointment with my own mind, but not loud enough for Paisley to hear. Odds are, he wouldn’t let me touch anyone anyway. I closed my eyes, trying to adjust to the sights of the outside world, the sights I had missed so much. And with the sights, came a flicker of happiness. 

Paisley 10/5/1348

Honestly, I think this is a horrible idea. I know she has the sores hidden under her clothing and her mask, but what if someone does see them? What if someone realizes her skin is far too cold for it to be natural? What if someone knows that she’s sick from her seemingly labored breaths? I know that it won’t kill her, since she’s survived this long, longer than anyone I’d known to survive without recovering entirely. But I also knew it would never end. She’d never recover. The sores would never disappear, her body heat would most likely never return, her breaths would remain raspy and faintly shaky, she’d be infected for as long as she lives. Although, from what I’ve seen, she can’t spread it… she was quite the abnormality from what I see every day, that’s for sure. I looked at the small girl beside me. Wouldn’t be long until she reached her 13th year of age, according to her, the day she was born on is the day we all regarded as a curse. Maybe that’s why she’s in her current condition? Maybe she’s cursed? I shook these thoughts off, hoping they wouldn’t return. She’s unfortunate, not cursed. I kept telling myself that. We kept walking, until a voice stopped us. A child, a little boy, around the same age as Magalie, tears in his eyes, panic crossing his face. “P-please help… My mother… She’s sick…” I looked at my apprentice, and I watched her whole world shatter before me. Her memories were leaking out like blood spurting from a ruptured ventricle. A broken heart. She nodded, without a single word, and she followed the child, who was fighting the urge to run. I hesitated, the followed slightly behind the two, assuming Magalie would want to take care of this herself. God I hope the woman is still alive when we get there… 

Magalie 10/5/1348

I feel like I did back in May, when I was in the exact position of the kid I’m following. Is this how Paisley felt when I came looking for help? My memories were swimming around my headspace, like a cloud of spooked minnows, like the ones I used to catch in the river, back when the plague was never even thought of, back when my parents were alive, back when I was normal, back when I was alive. I covered the eyes of my mask with my hands, not wanting to remember what had happened. I didn’t want to remember. I wanted to forget. If I forgot, all the pain would go away. But for now, I had a job to do. The memories is what drove me to choose medicine and healing. That’s why I’m here. Why I am the way I am. Not why I have the plague… but why I’m following a child, plague mask obscuring my face, medical bag clipped around my waist. Why I’m here to save lives, to help people… But I knew that the darkest thing of all was failing… Or the people who lived to see another day to simply suffer in all the days ahead, as they watch those they love wither and die. I hated it, but I wasn’t here to kill people. After all, I only became a doctor so nobody would have to die in the same manner I watched my own parents die in… I closed my eyes, trying to clear the swarm of invading thoughts. The child’s shaky voice broke through the wall of memories, bringing me to a kind of peace. “What’s your n-name?” He stammered, much like I had when I met Paisley, and I tried to model my attitude the same as he had. “I’m Magalie, and you are?” The child smiled, temporarily distracted from the issue at hand. “I’m Astor!” He chirped, beaming. “That’s a lovely name. It suits you quite well.” I replied softly, already pitying the poor boy. What were we going to find when we walked into his home? Is his other even alive? The thought brought back an almost hallucinatory memory. Me, only a few months ago, walking in front of Paisley, an underlying gnaw of worry growing in intensity in my chest, yet trying to focus on the pitiful sound of my own footsteps, as if it would make the problem go away. Thoughts raced through my mind, is mother okay? Is mother asleep? Is mother angry with me? I was so unaware… And it hit me, as if the realization had grown from the feeling of a ton of bricks, to what felt like the entire town, my mother was dead. And I knew. This boy’s mother was too, or at least close to it. I remembered what Paisley had said with a shudder. “_ ...once I’m contacted, it’s usually too late… _” I was walking into a house of death… And I’m going to have to hear the mirror screams of a child as he tries to awaken his mother, then realizes, she’ll never wake up again… He was just like me, I didn’t have a chance to warn him before he ran into the house, calling out “Mommy! I’m home! I found a doctor for you!” and the cold silence hit like a bullet through my chest. I reached for his shoulder, but he just looked at me, fear flashing in his eyes, and he ran into another room. And that’s when I heard it. A scream, and for a moment, I was plunged back into the same moment that I found my mother’s corpse, curled into a fetal position on the floor. And then it was gone, just as soon as it had come. After a moment, the child cried out again. This time he called my name. 

** _Chapter 7_ **

Magalie 10/6/1348

I feel awful. I can’t stop crying. I just can’t. No matter how much Paisley tries to comfort me, I can’t stop. Right now, I’m sitting beside him, my cold body pressed against him, shivering and sobbing. He was trying to comfort me, saying things like, ‘There’s nothing you could do to save her’, or ‘it happens sometimes, it’s just part of the job.’ I whimpered, trying to calm down. “I’m sorry… I… I messed up… I wasn’t fast enough…” I squeezed my eyes shut, tears sliding down my face, landing in droplets on the floor. “It’s not fair!” I hugged him tightly, as if he were a lifeline. He sighed. “Magalie… You’re going to have to get used to it… It happens every single day… I see it all the time.” He said quietly. I opened my eyes again, looking up at him in agony. “I didn’t mean for her to die…” I said softly, my voice strained from crying. He didn’t say anything, just hugged me back using one arm. “It happens sometimes, Magalie. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen, but it just… does sometimes.” Was all he could say. Is there really nothing else he can say? A woman is _ dead _because I failed! Isn’t he going to punish me for failing somehow? I waited, almost hoping for him to show any sign that he was ashamed of me. But there was none. He just sat there, not saying a word, almost like a statue. Lost in my own thoughts, I realized that he may feel guilty. Maybe he remembers what had happened to me, and he thought that that would make the punishment for losing a patient immoral? I rolled my eyes, knowing he wasn’t paying attention, and I stood up. He looked up at me, his trance broken. “Where are you going?” He asked curiously. “Don’t worry about it.” I replied, and walked away fairl fast, before he could ask any more questions. I walked back upstairs, and hesitated for a moment. Am I really just going to go back into hiding? I rolled my eyes, pushing the door open. Yes, I am. I need to think. I picked up the book I had been reading time and time again, and opened it to the page detailing Pentobarbital. I knew that I shouldn’t want to, nut there was nothing I wanted more than to force the patients afflicted with the disease to overdose on it. I would be saving them, wouldn’t I? They wouldn’t have to die in the painful manner of the plague, and they wouldn’t have to watch their family, their children, even, wither and expire from the sickness. I pulled back my sweater sleeves, looking at those damned scars once more. I would bear them until the day I die, and I would never escape the whispers of fear and hatred directed towards me by the locals. I would never escape the feeling of abandonment as they all parted, to make sure I wouldn’t brush against them, to make sure I wouldn’t breathe on them, to make sure I wouldn’t talk to them. The feelings of hurt. The feelings of dread. I started scratching the black sores. I would never be able to get my friends back. They all would think I was contagious. Forever. I would never escape the pain and misery the bad days brought me, I would never escape the suggestions of execution. I would never escape those who question my medical abilities. I could never go outside, I could never stay inside. I couldn’t exist without being feared, without being ridiculed, without being hated. I broke out of my thoughts, feeling warm chilly liquid dripping down my fingers and arms. I looked at my arms. I had scratched and scratched, digging through the skin, and into the muscle. There was a sickly reddish-gray liquid practically streaming from the wounds and down the surfaces of my skin. My blood. I pulled my hand away in a panic, and tried to stop the bleeding using my sweater sleeves, to no avail. Distracted by the new discoloration on the pale gray fabric, I looked at my hands, the ends of the sleeves tucked into the tight grip of my fingers. It was only then that I realized how attered and soiled my attire was, with bloodstains, torn fabric, split seams, and even teased fabric, which was the aftermath or all the tears I had wiped away. I sighed in annoyance, and snuck into Paisley’s room. Since I would most likely be kicked out of any public place in the small town I called home, something belonging to my mentor would have to do. I opened the small door leading to a closet of sorts, and something caught my eye. A dark green button-up flannel. I pulled it down, and looked at it, inspecting it for any tears or such, and upon finding none, I put the article on, covering the sleeves of my sweater with the sleeves of the flannel. It was slightly oversized, but that's alright. I sighed, sneaking back out of the closet-room, and back into the study. Back where I felt safe. Back where the monsters I was forced to call ‘townspeople’ can’t find me. Back where the hatred and judgment couldn’t get to me. Back to 1346…

** _Chapter 8_ **

Paisley 10/12/1348

“Magalie! I’m going out, if you want to go…” I called out, hoping I could coax the girl down and out of the study. I understand she likes it up there, but she needs to spend some time outside of it. She’s so quiet anymore… Sometimes I wonder if there’s thoughts of murder and torture going through her mind. Although, she still seemed relatively sane, at least I think so. I leaned against the wall behind me, almost sure she wasn’t coming down, but then I heard footsteps. And then I saw her. The same girl I had seen only a week ago, looked so unfamiliar now. She hid her arms under a dark green flannel, which I think is mine, if I can remember correctly, with the buttons left undone, which made the gray sweater she had always worn visible. Her hands were stained with a strangely coloured substance, which I assumed to be her own blood, and under her mask, I could see bandages wrapped across the entire left side of her face, even her eye was covered. “Magalie…?” She didn’t reply. Just nodded. “Is… Is something wrong?” Apparently this was a foolish question, as she growled in annoyance and huffed, “You said we were going out, so here I am!” I knew what she meant. She wanted to prove herself to me, as if I didn’t deem her worthy of being a doctor. I sighed. “Y-yeah. Come on, then…” I opened the door, and she rushed out, almost knocking me over. I followed her, slamming the drab wooden door shut behind me. She waited for me, and once I had caught up, she made sure to keep pace with me. Being with her was… enjoyable, but I also hated it. I cared about Magalie, I had been with her since May, and she had taken to me like I was a brother to her. I loved the kid. She was honestly the closest thing to a little sister I would ever have, but I knew the bond we once had was falling apart. I knew our almost sibling-like relationship was crumbling faster that I could pick up the pieces. And no matter how hard I tried, she hated any effort I made to fix things. I knew she was angry with me, but that was my own fault. I shouldn’t have confined her to a hospital… I should have taken care of her… But I knew it was more than that. It was resentment of herself, except she aimed it at me, since she didn’t want to worsen the current condition of herself. After all, her body has been ravaged by the plague, so why would she want her mind destroyed by her own dark thoughts? So, she was aiming all that self-hate at me. She hated me because I had never contacted the plague. She hated me because society still cared for me. She hated me for being accepted when she is not. She hated me for helping those who do everything in their power to get Magalie out of their way, out of their town, out of their country, out of their lives. But what am I supposed to do? I understand where all her rage is coming from, but why me? I never did anything _ too _horrible to her, and I swear on my life, every choice I made regarding her health was in the best of intentions. But she didn’t understand that. And by the stillness radiating from her body, and the silence echoing through my head, she was deep in thought. I sighed, all I wanted was for things to be normal again. I want her to get better so she can have the life she truly deserves. But at this moment, I just wish we would get a patient. The silence was almost deathly. 

Magalie 10/12/1348

After we had finished walking around town, hoping to find any patients, which we didn’t, we came back home. This place doesn’t feel like home anymore though, it hasn’t in a long time. I’m getting to where I consider the feeling of homesickness I get every day, even when I’m in the home I had lived in for months. I tried to shake it off, and I dismissed it, telling myself the feeling would fade. The only issue was, I had been telling myself this time after time, and nothing ever changed. The feeling never eased, it only got worse. It only got more painful. Isn’t that how every bad feeling goes? It only gets worse? It only gets more painful? When I considered it, everything had only gone downhill since Mother passed away. First, I lost my home. Then, I got sick. After that, I was confined to a hospital. When I escaped, I lost my friends, and I lost my trust in the only person I truly had. And lastly, I failed to save the life of a woman, and now her son is feeling the same things I felt. Except, I don’t know what happened to him. I don’t know if he’s wandering the streets, trying to survive, or if another member of his family took him in. It upsets me to think about what may have happened to him. Or maybe he, like me, contacted the plague and wasn’t so lucky. Was I lucky? Or was I unlucky? At this point, I don’t know anymore. I touched the black scarred flesh on my cheek instinctively. Although, I couldn’t feel the rough, dry texture under the bandages, but that’s how I wanted it. I didn’t want to see, or feel, for the matter, the scars. I didn’t want to see the reason why everyone is afraid of me. Does that make me a coward? I didn’t think so, considering I still went out into society, and I still tried to make up with my lost friends. I rolled my eyes, and sighed. I found myself back in the study, and as soon as I was back in the well-lit room, books surrounding me, the feeling of homesickness fading from a stabbing pain to little more than a dull throb. I closed my eyes, the feeling of security enclosed me, bringing me to a drowsy state. Within mere moments, I was fast asleep…

_ I was a child of 8 again, the world around me was so bright, I heard other children giggling and laughing, and my father’s voice from within my house. He was laughing cheerfully, and my mother was giggling softly with him. Encasing the sounds of the people I loved were the ambient sound of birds singing, and the small stream outside my house. I sat down, looking at a crudely drawn landscape on an old, wrinkled paper in front of me. I picked it up, looking at it carefully, and the lines moved, forming from a landscape of rolling hills under a bright sun, to a town on fire, under a dark sky. And as soon as I looked up, the sickening smell of smoke wisping around me like a nagging song. I trembled, listening to the screams around me. And to my horror, the fire was coming not from my home, but Paisley’s. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t run towards the fire. It was almost as if someone was holding me back. I felt the unusual sensation of tears dripping down my face, something I haven't felt in ages, and a stabbing pain in my arms, like when the black sores first appeared. I screamed out, ignoring the pain and pulling harder against whatever was holding me back, despite the feeling of streams of warm blood running on my skin. Suddenly, the pulling force vanished, and with the forward momentum, I fell forwards and onto my face. This earned a cracking noise, and when I picked my head up, I could see the blood pooling below me. I touched my face, blood coating my fingers from my nose and mouth, and I felt multiple holes where teeth should have been. Tears welled in my eyes, as the world around me melted into a sticky mix of colours, and finally to a dark, dreary gray. I pushed myself to my knees, my hands covering my face, sobbing. There was a faint crackling sound that grew in intensity, but I knew what it was. I knew it was coming. So I just sat and cried while the dream-flames consumed my flesh. _

When I awoke hours later, I immediately curled into a fetal position against the wall and cried. 

** _Chapter 9_ **

Magalie 10/31/1348

I hate this day. I hate this day… so much. I was okay when I woke up, which isn’t normal for me, honestly… Normally when I wake up, all I want to do is cry. But today, things were different. I remember that all my life, I had counted the days until now, but now… I wish it was over already. I growled, put on my mask, which I had removed last night, since I felt that microsleeping was not a good long-term plan, and dragged myself downstairs. I was greeted by Paisley, who was trying to sound cheerful, but his happy tone hid a dark hatred for the current situation. I never wanted to spend my 13th birthday like this, confined away from the world, as if I was the carrier of the great plague in itself… I shoved the thoughts away, not wanting to spend more than a few seconds lost in my own bitter hatred. I huffed, walking outside, slamming the door behind me. I was going to try to be happy, and I’ll be damned if someone stops me. I am not a monster, and I am not a carrier. I am a doctor. I am the cure. Speaking of… I reached up, carefully releasing the clasp of my mask, and pulling it off of my face, exposing my bandaged skin. The breeze felt like a thousand needles being plunged into my flesh, and I screamed, digging at the pain. I took a few deep breaths, hurriedly putting my mask back on. I heard voices around me. Mocking, condescending voices. 

_ “The monster has to keep her mask on, keep her face hidden…” _

_ “She has to keep her true self hidden away…” _

** _“Disgusting.”_ **

I felt tears beginning to form in the corners of my eyes, and I shivered. And all of a sudden, it was gone. The pain, the fear, the sadness, all gone. I growled and stormed back inside, counting that attempt as a failure. I always knew they talked about me, but I never really cared, at least not until it was said to my face. Paisley looked at me, he was still standing in the same place he had been when I went outside. “Didn’t work out too well, did it?” I shrugged. I didn’t care, and I wanted him to know that. “Eh. It’s fine. I was kind of expecting someone to say something.” With that, I walked away, not wanting to be near Paisley. And since I wasn’t welcome in the outside world, where else could I possibly go? So, I went back to my only secure place, the only place I could be happy. And I sat down in the same place I had spent hours upon hours of the past few months, and I instantly felt like I was home. And when I considered it, this was home. This was the only place I loved, and the only place I was safe from the hate outside of the very door I leaned against. I sighed, closing my eyes. I just wish this living hell would be over soon…

Paisley 10/31/1348

I can’t say I feel bad for the kid. She had it coming. Doesn’t she know by now that the townspeople think she’s going to be the cause that all of them contract the plague and die? Although, she never did anything bad enough to deserve to be insulted the way she was, in my opinion. She never asked for the plague, and she certainly does not enjoy it, nor does she want it to remain in her body. And if I knew how to cure it the way she does, I would… But she never explained the surgery to me… And now, she doesn’t remember how to do it… Which leaves us helpless, left to fend for ourselves against the disease’s wrath… No… Left her to fend for herself. Left her to fight every day for every breath she takes. It’s not fair to her… What did she ever do wrong? She’s just… just a kid… I slammed my hand down on the table I was standing in front of, tears coming to my eyes. It’s a damn shame what the people here could do to her. Just because she’s a doctor doesn’t mean she’s an adult… And all I could do was stand back. I can’t fight for her, I don’t know how. I know she’s hidden away in the old study room again. She’s always hidden there… sometimes I wonder what could possibly be entertaining about that room, but then again, Magalie isn’t the same as an average girl her age here. When I go out, looking for new patients, I often think about just how different my former apprentice is. The average young woman here wears a dress, with a corset tightened far too much around their waist, the closest thing to jewelry available, and they smell of powdered talc and infant’s breaths. Magalie however, wouldn’t be caught dead in standard feminine apparel, instead wearing a tattered gray sweater, black pants made for a young man, and a two-sizes-too-large green flannel, bandages replacing layers of jewelry, and if one paid attention, hidden away under the smell of blood and plague, hints of forest and autumn leaves could be detected. She’s so different, and yet she’s still somehow the same. And it hurts to know she couldn’t come out of hiding, as if she were a beast. I sighed, trying to clear my head. And for a moment, I thought it was working, but I realized my mind would probably always be consumed with worries and anxieties for as far as can be seen into the future. I just wish Magalie knew I wish this had happened to me, and not her. 

Magalie 10/31/1348

I hate them all. Why can’t they tell I’m not going to spread the plague? Why can’t they tell that all I want is to help them? Are they all really just that blind? I guess they must be, because when I looked out the only window in the study, a few people pointed towards me, although I wasn’t sure how they knew I was watching them, and started talking amongst each other. And by their body language, they weren’t pleased to see me. I shrunk back away from the window, not caring what they had to say about me. Fuck them. I never asked for this, and I don’t enjoy it either, so if they think their stupid little comments bother me, then they’re extremely wrong. And one day I’ll show them that. It’s their fault I’m the way I am, since it’s one of them who gave me the sickness. I sat back down against the door, and picked up the same book I have read over and over again, my fingers brushing against the hard leather cover brought a smile to my face. I opened the book again, and even though I already knew what the pages hed, I was excited to read it again anyway. I scanned over the first few pages, but settled on the same eerie page, and I knew why, but I didn’t want to think about what I was considering… 

** _Chapter 10_ **

Magalie 11/10/1348

I love autumn. It’s my favorite season. And what’s strange is I’ve been so busy being absorbed in my own problems that I haven’t noticed the would changing colour around me. And in a way, the change is calming. It’s a change I used to count the time until I started to notice it taking place. It’s a shame I was too busy sulking to notice. Right now, I’m staring out the window, a faint smile on my face, as the crisp orange-brown leaves drift gently to the ground. I sighed. I wish everyday was as calm as now… There was hardly anybody on the streets, which I assumed was because it was colder outside than normal. It was nice, honestly. Seeing people dotting the streets was becoming something I hated to see. Something I had to put up with every single day, but there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening. I rolled my eyes, trying to keep the image of the faces of those I hated so much out of my mind, considering the only things they had to say to me were meant to drag me down. Although I don’t care too much, I still think about it a little, but who wouldn’t? I stand up, and stretch my stiff arms, bringing back a dull ache from the half-healed plague sores on my arms. At this point, it doesn’t really bother me, and I kinda find comfort in the pain. I opened the study door, walking back out. This is the first time I’ve ever grown bored of the study, which I’ve considered to be the place where I feel the best for as long as I can remember now. I knew where I wanted to go, and I was going to go there whether Paisley and the townspeople like it or not. I was going home. I walked down the stairs as quiet as possible, and snuck out, leaving the door open as I went. I knew Paisley would find out I had left anyway, so why would I care? I sighed, watching my breaths crystalize in the chilled air in front of me. I somehow remembered exactly how to get to where I wanted to be, and I just listened to the soft crunching of leaves with every step I took. 

Paisley 11/10/1348

Not fucking again. I woke up this morning, assuming Magalie was in the study, as usual. But no, she isn’t. This is the second time in recent times she has ran out without asking me, but this is literally the first time she’s snuck out without asking me, in all the time I have known her. What confused me even more is why she just left the door open when she left. Did she want me to know she had left or something? I stepped outside, and glanced around, but I didn’t see her, so I closed the door behind me, and groaned. Time to look for her, I guess. I walked down the street closest to my house, my hands stuffed in my pockets, trembling slightly from the cold. How could she possibly WANT to go out in this weather? And what I have to ask even more, is how long has she been out here for? She could have been out here for mere minutes, or she may have been out here for hours. How would I know? I kept walking, confused and a little nervous. And then it hit me. What if she wanted to go back to her mother’s house? I resisted the urge to facepalm, considering I was a fair distance away from my house. I looked around me, and sighed, before turning around and walking in the opposite direction. 

Magalie 11/10/1348

I can see it… I can see my old home. The place I grew up. And it felt like something was luring me towards it. I felt… happy. And the feeling of homesickness that had haunted me for days, for weeks on end faded away, like it was never there in the first place. I pushed open the door, a faint smile on my face. I looked around, and suddenly, I felt like a small child all over again. Summers I spent giggling and running with the people I thought would be my friends forever, the summers I spent playing in the cool water of the stream running outside of the small cottage I once called home, the summers I spent sitting on the banks surrounding the steam, rolling small glass marbles back and forth between my palms, the summers I spent running into the forest outskirts surrounding the small French town I called ‘home’ and returning mere minutes later, a huge bundle of multicolored, sweet-smelling wildflowers. The summers that were long gone. The summers I would never get back. I closed my eyes, allowing the image of sunlight slipping in through the small window in my bedroom, the faint sound of the surrounding trees rustling in the breeze. I sighed, walking back a little ways, and looking into the first room, my old room, The old, torn doodles still clung to the walls by nails, the small child’s bed still neatly made up. I choked back tears and looked into the room just adjacent to my own… My parents’ room. I stepped in, and I remembered a cold night in September. I was unable to sleep, so I snuck into the room belonging to my parents, and wedged myself between them, falling asleep almost instantly. My father had passed away when I was only 11. I can hardly remember him now. My mother hasn’t even been gone a full year, and I’ve already forgotten her voice, and how she smelled when we used to go on long walks together through the small forested areas around our small town. I’ve forgotten so much… But I’ll never forget the sight of my mother, laying in a corner, curled up with her face hidden, her skin was pale, her body cold. Gone. Lifeless. And then the tears came. I couldn’t stop crying, no matter how hard I tried. And right when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I heard the soft, but stern voice of Paisley, from right behind me. “Magalie?” I turned around, trying, and failing, to mask my tears. “Y-yeah…?” I replied, my voice sounding a little bit strained, even though I had only been crying for a few measly minutes. Instead of reprimanding me for sneaking out, as I had originally anticipated, he sighed, and kneeled beside me, putting his hand on my shoulder, the way he always does when I’m upset… “It’s okay, Magalie…” 

** _Chapter 11_ **

Paisley 12/5/1348

This year has been so crazy, and there’s no sign of the insanity ending anytime soon. After Magalie went back to her old home last month, she’s been eerily quiet and strangely angry at things she simply can’t control, which worries me. I can’t help if I lose a patient, and all Magalie can say is that ‘I didn’t try hard enough’ which I know is a lie. I do anything and everything I can to save people, not kill them faster… Whatever. She can think what she wants, but the real thing that worries me is what I found when I went into the study, maybe thinking me and her could just… sit down and talk, the way we used to. But when I went in, she wasn't there. Normally, I wouldn't be worried, and just assume she was elsewhere in the large house we shared, but what I found… it was much more… unsettling. The books were all is disarray, which was normal, since Magalie wasn’t the most organized person to walk the earth, but there was one corner that was well-organized, and clean to a T… I approached the small area, my eyes settling on a small stack of books. I kneeled beside the stack, confused as to why these books here deserved so much love and affection as to not be haphazardly tossed into the piles littering the floor, as the others had been. I picked the one on top up, and almost dropped it upon realizing what it was. She wasn’t supposed to see this… My old experimental journals. God only knows what ideas she got from reading this… I put the book back down, daring to pick up the one under it. It was a messily bound stack of papers, all of which were covered front and back with Magalie’s neat, but slightly shaky, handwriting. It looked as if she had written it all in a hurry, and as if writing was far more painful for her than it looked. I tried not to think about her possible pain, and instead read over what she had written. I wasn’t worried about the first few pages, where she detailed how being infected felt, but I felt sick when I turned to a page that she has scribbled on. Her writing was no longer small and elegant, but rather, large and messy, like she had scribbled in the same manner as a child would when colouring. I skimmed over the words, seriously hoping my eyes were fooling me, that this was all just a cruel dream. But when I gripped my hands tighter around the pages, I realized this was real. All real… I whispered the words on the page to myself, hoping I would understand them better if I heard them out loud. 

_ “I hate them. I hate them all. I wish they would just stop. Just stop fighting it. They’ll all end up like me in the end, anyway, right? I tried to help, and look where that got me. Is this a punishment for knowing how to cure the sickness? Or is it so I can’t see my treatments fail in the end? I can’t take it anymore. Everytime I look outside, they all run from me. As if I was capable of really hurting them! Haha! That’s funny! But you know, I get tired of being feared. I just want someone to trust me. And they will trust me, by the time I’m done. I’m sure they’ve all forgotten my name, and probably what I look like too. And what they don’t realize is that people don’t look the same as they did a year ago when you look at them a year ahead. It’s actually funny, considering they think they know me. They think I’m dangerous. Well guess what? I found out how to save them all from a death following extreme pain and suffering. Pentobarbital is a drug that causes paralysis of the diaphragm following unconsciousness if a dose too high is administered. They wouldn’t even feel a thing…” _

I shivered, hoping she didn’t plan on trying this. I sighed, trying to will my heart to stop pounding in my chest, and for my head to stop swimming with nausea. I turned the page, and the scrawled, angered writing stopped, and the elegant, calm off-cursive lettering began again, almost as if by magic. The date in the corner of the page recorded this as the day after Magalie had written the angry entry. I read it aloud too, feeling as though it made whatever was written on these pages easier to understand and accept. 

_ “Looking back on what I wrote yesterday, I feel awful. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I don’t want everyone around to hurt me. Is that hard to understand? I hope not… Either way, I want to apologize to everyone for merely considering forcing them to overdose and perish on such a strong drug. I was a fool to think of ways to use it for my own personal gain, but really, I just wanted to ease the passing of those infected… Is that so bad? I’ve seen the horror of someone dying from the plague. They scream, they cry, they gasp for air when there is none that their lungs will take, I’ve seen them beat on their chests, hoping that will ease the pain and the difficulty in breathing, I’ve seen them try to claw their skin off, I’ve seen them even scream out, begging to be killed, begging for their pain to end, begging for me to end it. I never would. I have been afraid of God my whole life, but now, I’m not so sure he even exists, considering he never answered a single prayer I sent forth for the black pestilence to vacate from my body, to free me, to cure me. It never happened. Did I say the prayer the wrong way? Or does God simply not like me? Does God even exist? Mother and Father always told me to believe, no matter what, because he would always be there watching me. That’s a damned lie, because nothing good has happened since the first day I noticed the black plague sores peppering my pale skin. Who cares if I go to Hell for it? Sounds a lot better than this place.” _

I closed the book, tears welling in my eyes. I didn’t want to think about what could be happening to Magalie. I knew it was only a matter of time before she started doubting everything she had been raised with, but I didn’t think it would come so soon… And all of a sudden, I heard her voice, only it wasn’t in my head. “Paisley! What are you doing in here?!” 

Magalie 12/5/1348

I can’t believe he’d do this! He swore to me he’d stay out of the study! He swore he’d stay out of my things! And now here I find him, and he’s reading everything I’ve ever written aloud. He knew. He knew what I wanted to do so badly. And now, he was going to make me want to do it even more. Because the way he stood up, and stepped towards me, anger and fear in his eyes, I knew he wasn’t going to try to resolve this peacefully, so neither was I. He started first, his voice quickly rising to an angry shouting. “What the hell are you thinking? You’re considering _ killing _ people? Because you got a bad hand in luck? That’s pathetic, Magalie! I expected much, much better from you!” I narrowed my eyes in reply. I didn’t say a word, because I knew I could win by being silent. He always left when there was no reply. Well, usually. This time was different, he stood in front of me, unmoving. He just glared at me with a look of disappointment on his face, and I closed my eyes, wrinkling my face in an attempt to keep my angered tears back. Then before I could stop it, I heard myself scream, “ _ I HATE YOU! AND I HATE THIS PLACE! _” and when I realized I had done it, I ripped the book from Paisley’s hands, and ran out of the study, down the stairs, and finally out the door, leaving it wide open behind me. I wasn’t coming back, and I know Paisley knows that. I hope he’s happy now, since he’s the one who drove me to this point. Before I could run away, and out of hearing range, I heard Paisley call my name, begging me to come back. Apology after apology escaped from him, but I quit. I’m fucking done. I’m done with him, I’m done with this town, I’m done with this life. I’m just… done. 

** _Chapter 12_ **

Paisley 1/20/1349

Magaile’s been gone for almost two months, and there’s no sign of her anywhere, but something tells me she’s still alive. And I’m scared of what she may be doing with her time, now that she’s all alone. And from how afraid everyone is of her, I’m assuming she has to keep moving around, which means I can’t possibly know where she is, at any given time, and it worries me… Probably more than it should, at that… I often found myself looking around myself when I was out of the house, and rushing to windows to steal a fast glance far more than I used to, hoping to see any sign that my former apprentice may be coming home… and no matter what she thinks, I miss her, and I’m not mad for what she had written… when I considered it, what she said wasn’t as bad as I had originally thought it was… After all, I’m sure I had thought the same things as her at some point… Seeing people die every day, hearing the anguished cries of children finding out their beloved parents are gone, and never coming back, the stagnant stench of dead bodies and plague-infected homes. And when I thought far enough into it, I could almost feel the toxicity of the darkest part of my own mind seeping into the light. Magalie just couldn’t control her thoughts as well as I can, I guess… Thinking about Magalie makes me want to die. This is my fault. It’ll be my fault if she dies. It’ll be my fault if she hurts someone. It’ll be my fault if she… if she follows her dark thoughts. I hope it doesn’t come to that… I hope she just comes back… 

Magalie 1/20/1349

I don’t know if I feel guilty or if I regret leaving… Maybe it’s just the cold. It doesn’t hurt, it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s so… draining. I can hardly think. Hardly breathe. And I know it was my own stupid choices that I ran away. And I can’t go back now. It’s been too long, but it’s also not been long enough. I know he’s judging me. He always has, and he always will. I don’t know how I got so… hateful towards him. It hasn’t even been a full year, and yet, I feel like it’s been an eternity. And here I am now. I’m free, but I still feel trapped. I can’t stay in one place for long. I have to keep moving, to stay hidden from both Paisley and the weary eyes of the townspeople. Although, I have been spotted, and they don’t seem to recognize me… I was even approached by one, who was begging for me to help someone they loved. A desperate father, seeking help for his sick daughter… The poor girl… She was only 12, with hazel eyes, long curly hair, and freckles dotting her slightly tanned cheeks. I watched her life drain away. And no matter what I did, I couldn’t save her. That happened a week ago, and her father’s sobs of agony still echoed through my brain like a broken record. Over and over. An endless loop. And no matter how many times I tried to shake the memories away, I couldn’t. They wouldn’t leave me, not now, not ever. The only good thing that has happened recently is that I found Atlas again… He seems much worse than he was when I first met him. He was a mess. But, before I could talk to him, he started sobbing, and he hugged me, begging for help. That’s when I saw it. He was infected too. And all I could hope for is that he would be in the same situation as me, and that the sickness couldn’t kill him. I was stupid to hope for that… I was stupid to think I wouldn’t be the only one… I stayed with Atlas until his death a week later. I’ve never cried over a lost patient the way I did when he finally slipped away… And no matter what I did, his dying voice kept lingering, almost like a memory long forgotten, but never gone. His soft childlike voice. 

_ “Thank you, Magalie… For everything.” _

And then there was nothing. I started to cry. 

** _Chapter 13_ **

Paisley 4/10/1349

I’ve lost all the hope I once had of Magalie coming back to me… I’m starting to wonder if she’s even alive right now, and everything Ive seen says no… Considering I’ve seen everything _ but _ her. I couldn’t cry anymore, no matter how much I wanted to… It was almost as if my body had accepted the loss of my best friend, but my mind hadn’t. And in the time she had been gone, I had cleaned up the study, finding things that I wished I had seen so long ago… The study was like… well, like a timeline. One side of the room, one corner, stained splashes and splatters of blood, and an abandoned scalpel lost under the rug and forgotten there. I picked the small metal object up, and I knew where it was from. 

_ She has a patient with her. I sigh, then speak, “What do you think you’re doing, child?” The young apprentice flinches in shock, dropping a syringe and a bloodied scalpel on the floor. I stared at the two metal objects, confused and mildly agitated. “Why are you doing an operation without me?!” Magalie bowed her head in shame. “I just wanted to impress you, sir…” she murmured softly. _

The flashback hit me quicker than I could push it away. Magalie when she was new to all this plague business. Before she lost patients she so desperately wanted to save. Before she contracted the plague. Before the world turned it’s back on her. Before God turned his back on her, and left her for dead. 

And on the other side of the room, the other corner… dark journals, and pitiful writings, like the ones Magalie had taken from me before she ran away. Page upon page, day upon day, hour upon hour. So this is what she did all those days she kept herself locked away up here… I didn’t want to think about it, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to lose her, not ever… Looks like I messed that one up, didn’t I? Now she’s gone, and I have no idea if she’s dead or alive. They could find her dead, or, they could be burning her at the stake for all I know. When I was searching the rubble that was hundreds of books tossed on the floor, abandoned after Magalie had finished reading them, or after she had grown bored of them, I heard a knock at the door. I waited, assuming I was hearing things, but when I heard it again, I was sure that this wasn’t just in my head. This was real. I rushed downstairs, and opened the door. And there she stood. 

“Magalie…? What are you doing back…?” 

But as soon as I spoke, everything faded to black, and she was gone. It wasn’t real. None of it. Magalie is gone. Or at least, her humanity is…

** _Chapter 14_ **

Magalie 5/12/1349

I can’t take this anymore. Watching everyone die around me. Watching the ones they love so much grieve. I can’t do this. And it’s too late to turn back now… I was standing in the hospital I had been confined in when the symptoms of the plague had just showed themselves, holding a bottle of pentobarbital and a syringe, replacement needles filled my medical bag that clung to my side, and my mask concealed my face. This was it. I am the Plague. 

Paisley 5/12/1349

Oh God, oh God, oh God… Please tell me this isn’t real… Everything was so normal this morning, I woke up, and disregarded eating in the mornings, as I always do, and I took a small bit of time to myself, to relax and maybe read a book, since my mind had finally adjusted to the lack of Magalie’s presence enough for me to focus on other things. But as soon as I had chosen a book to read, I heard a knock at the door. I opened it, and was met with a panicked young man, not much older than myself. 

“We need your help… You’re the best plague doctor in town, or so I’m told…” He said, breathless. And worry hit me. I knew it had something to do with Magalie. “What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible, to hide my anxiety and suspicion. The man took a breath, then quickly said “Our patients with the plague… they’re declining rapidly… so far, three have died, but that’s only when I left. God only knows how many are dead now…” I tried to say something, but he interrupted me. “One more thing, the last one said something about a young woman dressed in a green flannel and a plague mask… They said she gave him an injection.” I felt my heart drop, then speed up. I started shaking. 

“She’s alive…” I whispered, then pushed past the man, running towards where Magalie was putting her murder spree into action, like I had been so scared of all this time. 

Magalie 5/12/1349

I had never felt so satisfied in my life. I resisted the urge to laugh as I watched the poor victims fall limp, their breathing slowing, then stopping. They don’t have to suffer anymore, do they. I couldn’t fight the smile across my face, though concealed by mask. I opened another door, and walked in, and the infected before me was a little girl. I felt the urge to end her suffering fade, though only slightly, as if it were just a throb that had died in intensity from ever-present to barely there, but it _ was _ ** _still _ ** ** _there. _ **The little girl sat up, terror in her eyes. “Wh-who are y-you?” and no sooner that she said those words, she doubled over, coughing and gagging. I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Hey, look at me okay?” She looked up, pain and agony in her eyes. 

“Give me your arm. I can make the pain stop.” 

Paisley 5/12/1349

As soon as I entered the hospital, things were pure chaos. People were running in and out, and a few looked at me with fear and suspicion. I heard a high pitched laugh from the floor above me. The memory came painfully. Magalie. I heard someone yell, “Grey’s going down!” before I refused to listen anymore, not wanting to know what the girl I had taken in was doing. But I already knew. And I knew I had to stop her. The only issue with that is, how could I stop her? I have no idea what state she’s in mentally, and I have no idea what she thinks she’s doing. All I know is what I saw right before she left. And that’s all I have to go on. But it’s worth a try, right? I sighed, and began the seemingly long and anxiety-filled walk upstairs. 

Magalie 5/12/1349

I didn’t feel bad… I didn’t feel bad at all. The girl I had just treated… one moment she was coughing, wheezing, gagging, the whole nine yards, and after I gave her the injection, she just went to sleep. She was so peaceful. I walked out of her room, gently closing the door behind me. I moved to the next room. A young woman. She was asleep. I approached her bedside, filling a syringe with the deadly dose of medication, and just as I went to insert the needle into her pale, scarred arm, I heard a voice Paisley’s voice. 

“Magalie! Stop!” 

Paisley 5/12/1349

Oh God… I found her, and I can’t move. I’m so scared. She’s holding a syringe full of a deadly dose of the drug she had written about in her journals, and she has the tip of the needle touching the arm of her next potential victim. She’s killed four already, and I can’t let her hurt anyone else. She turned to face me, and I could tell just how much she hated me, and I could almost see the expression of disgust even through her mask. And it hurt to see what she’d done. What she’d become. I shook my pain away. This woman’s life was in my hands, and trying to get Magalie away physically wasn’t an option. By the time I was over to her, she would’ve already injected the woman with the liquid death Magalie was threatening me with. And all I could do was stand there, and try to reason with her. “Magalie… please… think about what you’re doing…” I stammered, trying to ignore the sick feeling in my abdomen. This was going to be a long talk, and I knew I had to play every card exactly right, or this wouldn’t work. 

Magalie 5/12/1349

I don’t know why he’s telling me to stop! I’m helping! I am saving them! I glared at him, disgusted that he would stop me from doing what he had forced me to promise I would always do. I would always try to save people to the best of my ability. And here he was, trying so hard to stop me. I wasn’t letting him. I pulled the syringe away from the sick woman’s arm, and stared him down. I put the needle to my own arm, and kept watching, as a look of terror grew on his face. I pushed the needle of the syringe into my flesh, wincing at the pain, but before I could inject the pentobarbital into my blood, I felt the full weight of Paisley slamming me to the ground and ripping the now bloody needle from my arm. I struggled against him, screaming and cursing, but I couldn’t fight the blackness creeping into the corners of my eyes. And suddenly, I felt at peace. I looked at the syringe. It was empty. The drugs were in my system… I giggled softly to myself, and closed my eyes. The last thing I heard was Paisley screaming, begging me not to leave. Then everything was silent.

**Author's Note:**

> Constance 5/12/2019
> 
> Ugh… where am I? Wait… I don’t remember this place. I’ve never seen anything like this. I sat up, confused and scared. Where the hell am I? I looked at my hands and arms, which were still scarred from when I had fallen asleep. I looked around the room I was in, wishing I could scream, but my body not allowing me to. I wanted Paisley… I missed him… And then everything came flooding back. Losing my parents, Atlas, Paisley sending me to a hospital, me running away, me injecting pentobarbital into the veins of sick patients at the same hospital I had escaped, but most of all, me injecting the seemingly-lethal drug into my own arm. Paisley… He’s so foolish. That was only the beginning. What he didn’t know was that I didn’t die that day, and here I am, all this time later, and I still remember it all in perfect detail. I was never dead. I just needed to wake up...
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, even though it was a little bit rushed. I wanted to make sure it was released on Halloween itself, which made a huge issue with a time cruch, since the time between me imagining this story and finally finishing it was around a month and a half, which is a fast pace, in my opinion. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and Have a wonderful day / night!


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